Shoulders of Giants

We faced the night on the backs of our bikes
 The pavement reflected the stars
 A sore sight for eyes, those crickets of light
 Our faces burnt black in the dark
 We crept from our rooms by the light of the moon
 In darkness we strapped on our shoes
 As the patches of flame leapt like creatures at play
 The sky became battered and bruised
 Even in darkness I'm smiling
 Cause I know that fear is a good thing
 Pain is a novelist waiting for the perfect line
 All of the sleepless can find peace
 Counting the holes in the ceiling
 Depressions that add up to nothing
 It only kills time
 It only kills time
 Night is a cat that resides in the streets
 And lights up the dark with its eyes
 They glow in the pockets of time's ragged jeans
 A shadow in feline disguise
 We read the paper in skeptical silence
 We only believe what we see
 We think that we stand on the shoulders of giants
 How can we be so naïve
 Even in darkness I'm smiling
 Cause I know that fear is a good thing
 Pain is a novelist waiting for the perfect line
 All of the sleepless can find peace
 Counting the holes in the ceiling
 Depressions that add up to nothing
 It only kills time
 It only kills time
 All these schemes, I don't understand
 All these dreams, they melt in the sand
 And every new answer creates newer questions
 In every face I see my own reflection
 All these schemes, I don't understand
 All these dreams, they melt in the sand
 And every new answer creates newer questions
 In every face I see my own reflection
 Even in darkness I'm smiling
 Cause I know that fear is a good thing
 Pain is a novelist waiting for the perfect line
 All of the sleepless can find peace
 Counting the holes in the ceiling
 Depressions that add up to nothing
 It only kills time
 It only kills time